


to join with you and share all that is to come

by plastics



Category: Gone Girl (2014)
Genre: Adultery, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Manipulation, Seducing Spouse’s Extramarital Lover, Sexual Content, Unhealthy Relationships, discussions of reproductive coercion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:00:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29192691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plastics/pseuds/plastics
Summary: Nick made a vow. Nick broke a vow. He didn't get to decide where the lines are redrawn.
Relationships: Amy Elliott Dunne/Andie Hardy, background Amy Elliott Dune/Nick Dunne
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8
Collections: Shotgun Wedding Flash Exchange





	to join with you and share all that is to come

**Author's Note:**

  * For [asuralucier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asuralucier/gifts).



Up close, Amy couldn’t deny the appeal of fresh pussy. Andie kept herself well-manicured. Her matching lingerie—paid for by Amy’s husband, with her money—came in a faded blue-blood lace that made her look timeless, in a way that only a twenty-three year old girl can. She moaned so sweetly at the lightest tease.

It was an act. Of course it was; every woman her own most intimate voyeur, and in every other woman another man at the keyhole, measuring them against each other, and all that. Andie cast herself in a different role than Amy. A smart move, for the daughter of a shallow attempt at a Missourian upper class trying to turn herself into a real writer. Allowed her to be a bit more raw than was expected of Amy as a girl.

Andie didn’t didn’t so much as flinch when Amy “accidentally” ran into en route to visiting her adoring husband for lunch.

“Oh, I  _ love  _ Professor Dunne,” she’d said, eyes locked onto Amy’s. “He really just has a way of making things real, you know?”

Amy smiled. “It’s one of the things we first bonded over. I’m a writer, too, you know.”

“Of course!” she replied, and Amy allowed herself to imagine Nick acknowledging her own accomplishments for a moment, what she left behind for him, and then Andie said, “My mom used to read me all the Amazing Amy books growing up.”

_ Little bitch,  _ Amy thought, not without approval.

  
  


Being in the right rooms at the right time wasn’t terribly complicated in Manhattan, at least not for Amy Elliott Dunne. It was infinitely less so North Carthage. She didn’t even need to drink too many cups of terrible college-café coffee or poorly mixed specials at The Bar before Andie began to seek her out—she was the desperate sort, and it was only becoming more clear that Nick’s the sort of man who couldn’t even keep a girl like her satisfied.

They commiserated over glasses of wine. Andie didn’t enjoy the flavor, but she drank anyway, grimacing through gulps as animosity began to sprout. “It’s just like, I don’t mind if he’s busy, I know he has other students, but if I ask ahead of time, he could just freaking tell me something came up or reschedule or literally anything that doesn’t leave me waiting around for him, you know?”

“Oh, I certainly do,” Amy said with a tasteful sip. The nerve on this girl, complaining about her boyfriend blowing her off to his wife. Not even a flinch. It was almost admirable. It made hatred broil in Amy’s gut. 

There were only a handful of taxis in town, but Amy insisted on sending Andie home in one. They stood in the cold waiting for its arrival. When Andie started to shiver, Amy wrapped her Kors cashmere-blend scarf—one of few remaining luxuries—around Andie’s shoulders.

“You’re just so cool,” Andie blurted out. Her cheeks and her nose were flushed. “Nick doesn’t deserve you.”

Amy just smiled, brushed the back of her fingers over a pink cheek. Maybe a little maternal, but there lied the original inequality, didn’t it?

  
  


The first nude came at 3:24 a.m. Nick was snoring. Amy was writing.

She really did have fantastic tits.

Another buzz.  **omg im so srry i didn’t mean 2 send that 2 u**

At 3:31 a.m., Amy replied,  _ Cute. _

  
  


It wasn’t until Andie was with Amy on the nights that Nick didn’t come that it became clear how often he had been telling the truth when he said that he was crashing at Margo’s. The man couldn’t even maintain excitement in the sordid affair that was going to ruin his life. How very sad for him.

Their house in Missouri cost a fraction of what it would anywhere respectable back home, but Andie luxuriated in wandering its halls, sampling their food, wearing Amy’s silk robe, lying in Amy’s bed as she whined, “I don’t  _ want  _ to shower. I can smell you on me.”

Amy didn’t mention her regimen of shower gel, shampoo, conditioner, moisturizer, skin care, perfume. Instead, she had Andie sit on the floor. Her hair was that of someone freshly fucked, and it was too early for Amy to show her hand. Amy never had a sister besides Margo, and what a joke that was, nor any close female friends. She’d never braided another woman’s hair. But, after Amazing Amy stole her signature ponytail—only lusher, prettier, beautiful instead of the compromise of a girl who hated to be touched—she’d transitioned into rigid French braids from ages eight to seventeen.

Andie’s hair required a softer touch, but what else was new.

“I was late last month,” Andie said, seemingly out of nowhere. Amy let her hands hesitate for a moment, then continued to draw her fingers through and around themselves. “Just, like, two days. But I still thought. Maybe.”

“Are you not on birth control?” Amy asked, voice free of judgment.

Andie’s left shoulder rose then fell. “It fucks with my head.”

The braid always came together more quickly once Amy got off the skull. She waited until she reached the end of the first, then leaded forward for a small rubber band in Andie’s hand. With the end secured, she asked, “What would you have done?”

“I don’t know. Like, I want kids, but not this soon. Not before I established myself, or… I don’t know, ‘out of wedlock’ makes me sound so fucking prudish,” Andie said. Amy started on the second braid, still so gentle. “But I guess part of me was into the idea of, like, being taken care of? Because Nick would. He’s an asshole, but, it’s like, it feels like if I could _make_ him commit, he would? And then, with you and me, it just feels like… I don’t know. Like this is how I could be part of the family this way, since it’s not like we could ever be together for real in the normal ways.”

When Amy didn’t immediately reply, Andie concluded with a rush, “It’s just a stupid fantasy. Hormones, you know.”

The girl didn’t have a fucking clue, that much was obvious. Thinking she could be  _ taken care of  _ by two has-beens who flamed out of New York, and even if they could, like it was worth giving up her perfect body and the rest of her life to have Nick fucking Dunne’s baby. Did she know that she’d be giving Nick the one thing Amy refused him. Had Nick admitted as much in one of their own quiet mornings?

Amy’s plan was one with limited flexibility. Nick, Amy could plan for within the width of a hair. Andie, while predictable, could be volatile, too. But she could see another path begin to illuminate. Why should she be the one lost, to pay the price of Nick’s innumerable fuckups, when here’s Andie, who had waltzed into Amy's life and taken every crumb Nick had no right to offer, now offering herself up like a sacrificial lamb?

“There were so many  _ laters  _ when Nick and I first got together,” Amy started, smoothing Andie’s hair along the back of her skull. “As soon as we got our first adult jobs, as soon as we had enough money, as soon as our parents were taken care of. There was always a new benchmark for Nick.”

And Andie listened, back straight as Amy’s hands worked.


End file.
